Pavement
by Ravyntree
Summary: Pain and memory, reflected in a story about Zim and GIR.. 0ne-shot.


****Author's Note** I wrote this out of the pain of loss for my little dog, Sophie. Reading this, you will understand everything that happened, if you pay attention. I'm not claiming that this is the best of my work, because it's probably the worst. I understand that most of it makes absolutely no sense with the reality of Invader Zim. I didn't check spelling or grammar because I don't plan on reading this, ever. I just wrote.**

Zim looked out the window and couldn't help but notice what a pleasant day it seemed. He had absolutely no reason to go outside, but he did, stepping over to the door and opening it. GIR came up behind him and looked up at the Irken.

"Can I go out Master?"

"Sure, why not," he replied, opening the door and stepping out onto the front steps. GIR giggled and ran out into the yard, running circles around the gnomes.

Zim breathed in the crisp November air and smiled a bit, for once enjoying the Earth. He watched GIR run around awhile, then went back inside, deciding to leave him out. GIR never left the yard, anyway. He would be fine by himself.

Ten, perhaps fifteen minutes later, while Zim was examining things called 'Christmas ornaments', there came a knock at his door. He froze, not having been expecting anyone, then quickly went to a window and peeked out.

A large man in a plaid shirt was standing at the door, and Zim quickly slunk back into the shadows, not trusting strangers and not knowing what the man wanted. After another two knocks, the man walked back out to the front of the house. Zim peeked out the window again and watched as the man looked around in front of the house. He had a red truck, parked out front, and seemed like a country man. He was peering into the bushes and shrubs, hands on his hips. He was too far away for Zim to read his expression.

"What is he doing?" Zim muttered to himself. He watched as the man finally gave up looking in the bushes and got back in his car. He drove away slowly, and Zim went back to what he was doing, blowing it off as just another crazy human.

It was perhaps twenty minutes before he decided to call GIR inside. Zim stepped out onto the front steps.

"GIR!" he called, looking around for the robot. He wasn't in the yard, which was odd. He walked down to the end of the sidewalk and looked around in front of the house. Perhaps the man had seen GIR and was looking in the bushes for him, thinking him a stray. That would explain what he was doing.

Zim reached the end of the sidewalk leading to the road and stopped short, a chill firing up his spine. A frightening amount of metal scrapings, oil, and green cloth were in the road, sprayed across the pavement like nothing he had ever seen.

"GIR?" he whispered. The man must have hit something with his car. Something.. metal. And green. Maybe.. He couldn't think of anything metal and green. But it must have been something. He must have been looking at it in the bushes. The bushes. Zim turned and looked at the bushes. The metal and cloth led into them.

The alien walked over and parted them, but quickly stumbled back at the sight within. His eyes wide, breath stopped, he stepped forward and parted the bushes again slowly.

"GIR.." he whispered breathlessly. The invader dropped to his knees and touched the robot's head softly, shaking his head slowly and exaggeratedly. He rubbed his hand across GIR's dented head, avoiding the places that were ragged and broken. He let his eyes slide over the broken robot's body, his torn costume and the oil that was leaking from several places on him.

"GIR, wake up," he said sternly. "Come on, we need to get you inside." He touched one of GIR's eyes, but the robot did not respond.

"GIR, please.." he whispered, though he knew the robot was dead. He knew it from the first sight of the metal and oil on the road. In hindsight, he somehow knew it from when the man was looking into the bushes.

Zim rose slowly, hands coated in oil, and hurried back inside his house, muttering nonsense to himself. He grabbed a white towel and ran back out to GIR, wiping his hands on the towel as he went. Dropping once again to his knees, he grabbed one of GIR's hands and tugged on it.

"Are you alive, GIR?" he asked, but the hand was stiff. Lifeless. "No, you're dead. 0kay." He laid the towel over him.

The alien then rose and paced around, going first into the road to the oil and metal, then back to the front door, then back to the bushes. He was seized with the inescapable lack of knowing what to do. Finally, he knelt next to GIR and carefully lifted him, wrapping the towel around him. The robot was growing stiff. Zim carried him into the back yard, speaking to him as he walked.

"I told you not to go into the road, GIR," he mumbled. "I warned you to stay in the yard.. I taught you to stay in the yard.."

He laid the robot in the grass and stroked his head again, but strangely no tears fell from his lensed eyes. He was in shock, obviously, but he felt perfectly sane at the moment. It didn't bother him much that GIR was dead. It was part of life, no big deal.

Humans buried their dead, so shall he. Zim found a shovel and began digging a grave, working steadily, digging his way through roots and rocks. His hands blistered from the heavy work, but he didn't notice. He didn't even notice when he cut himself on a jagged edge of the shovel's wooden handle.

When the hole was deep enough, he threw down the shovel and knelt next to GIR, folding the towel back from his head slowly.

He stroked the robot's head gently, never having noticed before just how smooth the metal was and how beautiful he was.

"I didn't want to do this, GIR.." he whispered to the robot's lifeless form. "I never wanted to lose you.."

He lifted GIR and set him into the hole, frowning when his stiffened legs didn't quite fit. He laid the robot on the ground again and dug the hole wider, then replaced it's ward.

"There," he whispered, rising. He saw some flowers growing behind his house, and went to pick some. These he also laid in the hole with GIR, smiling.

"Goodnight, GIR," he said softly, and began carefully shoveling dirt back into the hole. When he finished, evened it out and laid some bricks atop it in a neat square. He set the rocks he had encountered while digging all around the edges, then stood and smiled at his work. He stared at the grave for a long time until he could see it no more. He was crying, he realized after a few moments.

Zim backed away, not wanting to turn his back on GIR, but eventually picked up the shovel and replaced it to its nest behind his home. He went inside.

It took all day, but finally, as night fell as he was looking out at the moon shining on the bricks, he broke. The alien fell against his couch and sobbed, curling up as if that would ward off the intense pain. He was used to pain, after seeing so many of his friends and family pass back on Irk, but this was different. They had all passed somewhat peacefully, slowly. He had said goodbye. This was so sudden.. Something that had been with him for years, suddenly ripped away.

It was his fault. He had no reason to let GIR outside. He should have kept his eye on him better. Should have better instilled in him the knowledge that he should never go outside the yard. He had no reason to let GIR out.. And now GIR was dead. Because of his stupid choice.

How long had he been lying in those bushes? It was twenty minutes before Zim found him.. what if he had been alive after being hit? What if he had died because Zim didn't go out faster? What if he had died alone and in agony? Wondering what was happening, why he was in such pain? It was obvious that GIR had been alive when first hit. He hadn't been hit into the bushes. From the marks and oil on the road, he had been hit and skidded across the road, then gotten up and ran into the bushes. He must have collapsed there. He must have died there.

And what of the man.. He had stopped to tell Zim of the 'dog' he hit. He must have felt horrible.. He even took time to look for GIR. Zim should have opened the door.. Should have spoken to that poor man.

Zim dug his face against the cushion on the couch and sobbed into it, shuddering with the effort. He was racked with so many things.. sorrow, loss, guilt, anger.. None of which he knew what to do with.

He just cried. Most of the night, until he finally passed out from exhaustion near five o'clock.

The next morning, Zim sat up and rubbed at his eyes. His face was still damp from the tears, but for a few sweet moments he had forgotten what had happened.

"GIR?" he called, rising from the couch and stretching. "GIR, come here."

The invader felt a cold stab in his chest as he remembered the previous day, his throat constricting painfully so that he could barely breathe. But he brushed it off as an all-too vivid dream. Just to be sure, he moved over to a window and looked out into the backyard. His eyes watered instantly upon alighting on the bricks and he shivered, gasping. It wasn't a dream.

The alien turned his back on the window and leaned on the counter as every feeling rushed back to him with painful accuracy. He recalled everything and screamed, not wanting it in his head. Rushing back to the couch, he tried to go back to sleep so that perhaps he could gain those few moments of peace again, like he had when he woke up, but it didn't work. He could never go back to a better time.

He could never go back.

Never.


End file.
